


The Time is Coming (Closer and Closer)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Groundhog Day, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people say that dreams can foretell the future. Hermione Granger is about to find out if that's true. Based on the prompt <i>groundhog day</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time is Coming (Closer and Closer)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anticyclone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/gifts).



> Anticyclone, this is probably a little different than you were expecting, but I hope you like it!

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. Except it wasn’t the Hogwarts she was used to. Something was wrong. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in some spots they were even broken. She could see through the holes down on to the grounds, but the landscape below her was fuzzy. She couldn’t quite make anything out. So she kept walking. 

She was up high. Maybe the seventh or eighth floor. It looked familiar, yet she couldn’t quite place it. There was a chill in the air. Maybe from the wind racing through the holes in the wall. Maybe from something else.

She shivered, but she kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse. A hiss sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm.

She screamed, and opened her eyes. Sat up in her warm, safe bed.

Hermione eyed the clock.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her first year at Hogwarts.

•••

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. Except this Hogwarts looked like it had been through a war. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in some spots they were even broken. She could see through the holes down on to the grounds. This time she could make out the dark silhouettes of a crowd of people. But she was too far up to make out their faces. So she kept walking.

She was in the same place as last time. Maybe the seventh or eighth floor. It looked familiar, yet she still couldn’t quite place it. She could see a spot where a tapestry had once hung, but now there was nothing left but a few strands of cloth.

There was a chill in the air. The wind raced through the holes in the walls, but it wasn’t that which made her shiver. Something was ahead of her. She could feel it. But yet she kept walking. One step in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse. A hiss sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm, started to pull her.

She screamed, and opened her eyes. Sat up in her warm, safe bed.

Hermione eyed the clock.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her second year at Hogwarts.

•••

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. Except this Hogwarts had been through a war. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in one spot they were even gone. She could see down on to the grounds where a crowd of people was gathered. They looked like they should be familiar, except she couldn’t quite recognize them. She thought maybe she should turn around and head down to them, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to keep walking.

She was up high, in the same place as the other two times. She was pretty sure it was the seventh floor. She could see a spot where a tapestry had once hung, but now there was nothing left but a few strands of cloth. The floor was littered with rubble from broken stone. One section of rubble looked darker than the rest.

Hermione froze. Was that blood?

She shivered in the cold air. The wind raced through the holes in the walls, but something else was making her chills worse. Something was ahead of her. She could feel it. But yet she kept walking. One step in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse. She could feel her body tremble. A hiss sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm and started to pull her. She tried to pull away, but it was stronger than her. She stumbled backward and screamed.

Hermione opened her eyes. Sat up in her warm, safe bed. Eyed the clock.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her third year at Hogwarts.

•••

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. Except, once again, it was nothing like the Hogwarts she knew. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in a couple spots they were even gone. She could see down on to the grounds where a crowd of people was gathered. She could see the Weasleys down there. Arthur, Molly, George, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Bill and even Percy. They were huddled together, like they were in mourning.

She thought about calling out to them, maybe turning around and heading back down, but her feet wouldn’t let her. They kept moving her forward.

She was up high, in the same place as the other three times. It was definitely the seventh floor. She could see the spot where a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy once hung, but now there was nothing left but a few strands of cloth. The floor was littered with rubble from broken stone. One section of rubble looked darker than the rest, like it was covered with blood.

Hermione had a feeling it was.

She shivered in the cold air. The wind raced through the holes in the walls, making a hissing sound in the otherwise silent hall, but something else was making her chills even worse. Something was ahead of her. She could feel it. But yet she kept walking. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse. She could feel her body tremble. A hiss that wasn’t wind sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm and started to pull her. She tried to pull away, but it was stronger than her. She stumbled backward and felt heavy arms wrap themselves around her body, tightly.

Hermione screamed, and opened her eyes. Sat up in her warm, safe bed. 

She eyed the clock.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her fourth year at Hogwarts.

•••

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. Except the castle she knew and loved was battered and broken. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in a few spots they were even gone completely. She could see down on to the grounds below where a crowd of people was gathered. She could see the Weasleys down there. Arthur, Molly, George, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Bill and even Percy. This time she noticed that Fred wasn’t there. A few of her professors were though — McGonagall, Trelawny, Flitwick, Sprout. Everyone — the Weasleys, her professors — was huddled together, like they were comforting each other.

She thought about calling out to them, maybe turning around and heading back the way she had come so she could join them, but something propelled her forward, as though her feet were giving her no choice.

She was on the seventh floor. She could see the spot where a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy had hung, but now there was nothing left but a few strands of cloth. The floor was littered with rubble from broken stone. One section of rubble was darker than the rest, covered with blood, a permanent stain.

Hermione stopped walking and bent down. Sadness seemed to radiate from the stain. She leaned in closer. Something was under the rubble, something more than just stone. A broken wand perhaps?

She reached out to touch it, but a huge gust of wind blasted through the hall. She shivered in the freezing air. The wind made a hissing sound in the otherwise silent hall, but something else was making her chills even worse. Something was ahead of her. She could feel it. And she knew she had to face it.

She stood back up and started to walk once more. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse with every step. She could feel her body tremble. A hiss that wasn’t wind sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm and started to pull her. She tried to pull away, but it was stronger than her. She stumbled backward and felt heavy arms wrap themselves around her body, tightly. A hand clamped over her mouth.

Hermione screamed anyway, and opened her eyes. Sat up in her warm, safe bed. 

She eyed the clock, though she didn’t have to. She knew what it would say.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her fifth year at Hogwarts.

•••

She was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. The castle she knew and loved was battered and broken but still recognizable. The walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in a few spots they were even gone completely. She could see down on to the grounds below where a crowd of people had gathered. The Weasleys were there — Arthur, Molly, George, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Bill and even Percy. But not Fred. Fred wasn’t there. A few of her professors were there, too — McGonagall, Trelawny, Flitwick, Sprout. So were a few of her fellow classmates, current and former. She recognized Katie and Angelina, Luna and Neville, Hannah and Cho. Everyone — the Weasleys, her professors, her classmates — was huddled together, like they were comforting each other. She thought she could make out the sound of crying.

A part of her wanted to call out to them, to turn around and head back the way she had come so she could join them, but something propelled her body forward, as though her feet were giving her no choice.

She was on the seventh floor, right in front of the Room of Requirment. She could see the spot where a tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy had hung, but now there was nothing left but a few strands of cloth. The floor was littered with rubble from broken stone. One section of rubble was darker than the rest, covered with blood, a permanent stain.

Again, Hermione stopped walking and bent down. Sadness seemed to radiate from the stain. She leaned in closer. A broken wand lay under the stone. It looked familiar. She had a horrible feeling she knew who it belonged to.

She reached out to touch it, but a huge gust of wind blasted through the hall. The temperature seemed to drop instantly. She shivered in the freezing air. The wind made a hissing sound in the otherwise silent hall, but she knew it wasn’t just the wind that was giving her chills. She also knew she couldn’t run.

She stood back up and started to walk once more. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill got worse with every step. Her body trembled. A hiss that wasn’t wind sounded through the hall. Something grabbed her arm and started to pull her. She tried to pull away, but it was stronger than her. She stumbled backward and felt heavy arms wrap themselves around her body, tightly. A hand clamped over her mouth. A wand jabbed her in the neck and a deep growl emanated through the air

Even with the hand over her mouth, Hermione screamed. She opened her eyes and sat up in her warm, safe bed. 

She knew without even looking exactly what time it was.

It was three in the morning on May the third, her sixth year at Hogwarts.

•••

It was three in the morning on May the third, on what would have been her seventh year at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was battered and bruised, but it wasn’t broken. Its walls were charred in places, cracked in others and in a few spots were even completely gone. But they would be rebuilt.

Hermione knew what she had to do. 

She slipped out of the Great Hall where all her friends were gathered — Arthur, Molly, George, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Bill and Percy. McGonagall, Trelawny, Flitwick, Sprout. Katie, Angelina, Luna, Neville, Hannah, Cho.

And others. So many others. But not Fred. Nor Tonks. Nor Lupin or Colin or any of the other dead. They were lost forever.

The ones who remained sat huddled together, crying tears of grief and sorrow but also relief. In the sound of pain there was a speck of hope. 

A part of Hermione wanted stay with them, not leave their sides, but there was something she had to do. She had no choice. 

She made her way to the seventh floor, right in front of the Room of Requirment. The tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy that had hung there for years was not nothing but a few strands of cloth. The floor was littered with rubble from broken stone. One section of rubble was darker than the rest, covered with blood, a reminder of the cost of the war.

Hermione stopped walking and bent down. Tears welled in her eyes. Someone had died here. She leaned in closer. A broken wand lay under the stone. She picked it up and slipped it into her pocket.

It was cold in the hall. The walls of Hogwarts weren’t protecting her anymore. She pulled out her own wand and stood back uo, continuing her path down the hall. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left. 

The chill in the hall got worse with every step. Her body began to tremble. She thought she heard a hiss that wasn’t wind sound through the hall. 

And then it happened. Something grabbed her arm and started to pull her. She tried to pull away, but it was stronger than her. She stumbled backward and felt heavy arms wrap themselves around her body, tightly. A hand clamped over her mouth. A wand jabbed her in the neck and a deep growl emanated through the air

She managed to twist her head. Menacing eyes glowered at her. A glint of light reflected off teeth that looked more like fangs.

Fenrir Greyback.

Hermione screamed, but Fenrir’s hand was too tight over her mouth. Barely a squeak came out.

She tried to fight against the arms wrapped around her, but he was too strong. He opened his mouth, leaned close to her.

She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

She fell backward, crashing to the ground on top of Fenrir. She twisted out of his hands and jumped to her feet as ropes appeared out of midair and encircled her would-be captor.

Hermione turned around, a smile lighting up her face as she threw herself at Harry, almost sobbing in relief.

“How did you know?” she managed.

Harry’s arms wrapped around her. His voice was quiet when he answered, so quiet she almost thought she imagined it.

“You’re not the only one who has dreams.”


End file.
